


My Ex-Boyfriend's Wedding

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Jealousy, Smut, Tension, and i don't care, the use of so many tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-09-20 18:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa left Winterfell to pursue a dream in fashion, leaving her secret lover, Jon Targaryen, behind. Ten years later she's gotten an invitation to his wedding and doesn't want to go. Yet she's not really going to be able to get out of it...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not want this to be super long. I had just thought it would be a one-shot and then started typing and...yeah. So, this is happening apparently.

Sansa told herself that it was bound to happen. Ten years away from Winterfell, away from Jon, and what did she think would happen? That he’d wait for her? That was ludicrous. Not to mention unfair. It wasn’t as though she had exactly been chaste. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t attempted to move on, too. It was just that Jon had _succeeded_ in doing so. It wasn’t a competition either, she told herself. 

But this, this slip of paper in her hand, with its romantic wispy writing and laced edges – it felt as though it was mocking her. Taunting her. It didn’t feel as though it was telling her that she was “cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Ygritte Wildling and Jon Targaryen”, it felt instead as though it was saying, “you are invited to watch the love of your life marry a woman you already don’t like just because he’s hers now. You fucked up, sweetheart.”

“Does it have anthrax on it or something?” 

Sansa looked up at her friend Loras as he entered her office and pointed at the invitation which she held at the corner, pinched between her thumb and pointer finger. She released it and watched it drift slowly to the top of her desk as she imagined wedding invitations were supposed to do. 

Sansa smoothed her black top and then her sleek hair and shook her head. “No. I imagine in the event it had anthrax I would be dead.”

Loras shrugged and handed over a pile of papers and files to her. “Brienne wants to know when you’ll be done with the article on Drumpf.”

Sansa smirked at the name the Last Week Tonight host John Oliver had given the current “person in the Oval Office”. They never called him by name, at least not in Sansa’s office. 

“Soon,” Sansa said. “Just putting the finishing touches on it now.”

“Good. You know how she gets.”

Sansa smiled. “I do.” Brienne was a hard ass, but Sansa had also learned a lot from her. In the beginning, when she heard first started working for _Scarlett_ she had worried that Brienne was going to be some Devil Wears Prada type boss. She wasn’t. She was demanding, she liked what she liked, but she was also fair. 

When Sansa had come to New York ten years prior, she had dreams of breaking into fashion. She had come armed with the money she’d saved for an apartment and at least six months-worth of rent, piles and piles of sketches and original clothing she had created painstakingly. 

After almost six months of trying to get a job and working part-time at Starbucks, Sansa had realized she needed to do something and quick. She had been so determined when she’d left Winterfell – she had left Jon for this – she couldn’t fail. She had to rally. 

She started applying for everything she could, including for a newspaper writing obituaries. She’d gotten that job and two years in she’d started a blog writing about her experiences in New York and got some of her co-workers to follow it. Then more people started noticing it. Including her boss. That opened the way for her to start writing editorials. At that point she was still supplementing her income by working at Starbucks, but she felt as though she was finally getting somewhere. 

Her pieces had taken a decided political turn, and she gained the notice of Brienne Tarth, who owned _Scarlett_ , which was a woman’s fashion magazine on par with Vogue and Bazaar. Sansa was in fashion, but not in the way she’d imagined. Instead, she wrote political articles and interviewed Senators. She’d even met Obama. 

Needless to say, she no longer needed a second job. 

It was odd, considering she had never really considered herself to be politically minded, but she had also come from a political family. Her father was the town manager of Winterfell, and her brother Robb was the mayor of King’s Landing. She had grown up around it all her life, but had never given it much thought beyond “being aware”, but now she was in the position to hopefully effect changes with her writing. It was a stressful job at times, but she loved it. 

So, it was no wonder she had little time for relationships. She’d hooked up with men, had affairs that lasted a few months at best, but her work and her inability to get over Jon kept her from committing to anyone. 

And now he was getting married. Her heart ached. Her gut clenched. She must have made a face because Loras, swept his curly blond mop of hair away from his face and nodded to the invitation. “What is on that piece of paper that has you looking at it like you want to burn it? Are you invited to an event hosted by Drumpf?”

“God no,” Sansa said and shuddered at the very thought of such a thing. She sighed. “It’s an invitation to my ex’s wedding.”

“Jon’s?” Loras asked with wide eyes. One night, when she was drunk, Sansa had told Loras all about Jon – how the Targaryens and Starks were so close they considered themselves family, and how Jon and Sansa had snuck around that one summer before she’d left for New York as though they were really cousins and would be berated for being together. 

She had fallen deeply in love with him, though she remained unconvinced that he’d felt the same way. He had treated her with the precious care previous boyfriends hadn’t, but it was just that they’d never said the words. She remembered thinking that it was better that they didn’t because if they’d said it out loud then it would make what they had all the more real – and make it more difficult for her to leave. 

Her heart had shattered the morning she’d left for New York. It had sunk into her thick head then that she was leaving Jon behind. Leaving what they had behind. He’d never asked her to stay, so she’d just sort of figured he hadn’t felt the same way. She knew he’d cared about her deeply, but maybe it just wasn’t love for him. She had thought about asking him to go with her, but Jon was so devoted to his family and had just started working for her father, so she couldn’t imagine him ever leaving. 

Loras had latched onto this story of “star-crossed lovers” and was convinced that one day something would bring them together again. Well, his bubble was about to burst. 

She sighed again. “Yes.”

“Oh my God! He’s getting married?!”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Keep your voice down!”

Loras braced his hands on her desk and leaned forward. “Sansa Stark, what are you going to do about this?”

“Not go?”

“Fuck no. You have to go. How can you not go?”

“How can I go and watch him marry someone else?”

“How do you know he won’t see you again and call it all off?”

She couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. “Oh, Loras, I do enjoy what a hopeless romantic you are, but that’s not how life works.”

Loras narrowed his blue eyes and straightened, folding his arms across his chest as he appraised her critically. Sansa sat back and arched a brow. 

“But how do you _know_ that?” he asked. 

She pointed to the offending invitation. “Exhibit A. Exhibit B? All of life. It’s not a movie.”

“It can be. I mean, think about it – all those tropes have to come from somewhere right?”

Sansa turned her chair and looked at her laptop; the story she was writing was on the screen. She put her fingers to the keyboard and waved him away. “Go away. I need to finish this article.”

“This discussion is not over,” Loras said, wagging a finger at her. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sansa said and started typing. It was gibberish, meant to look like she was only thinking about the article. When Loras shut the door behind him, she erased what she’d typed and sat back, staring at the invitation. 

**Flashback**

_Sansa gazed up into Jon’s handsome face – his gray eyes, his full mouth, his bearded jaw – and ran her fingers through his soft curly black hair. They were laying on their sides in his bed after having made love. Usually when they managed to get together, their first coupling was quick as though they couldn’t stand how long they’d been apart. And usually they weren’t apart for longer than a day or two. Then the next time they’d make love, it would be slower and sweeter with their initial urgent need sated._

_This time though, Jon had set the pace and it had been slow. Reverent. He had caressed her longer, kissed her deeper, and drawn out their coupling as though he meant for it to last all night long._

_He shut his eyes at the feel of her touch and sighed. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” he rasped. His eyes popped open. He looked like wanted to say more and Sansa waited, hoping he was going to tell her that he’d decided to go with her. Or ask her to stay. Or tell her he loved her._

_He said nothing of the sort though, just rolled over onto her in his bed and gazed down at her with a soft smile. He ran his fingers through her hair as he studied her face. It made her squirm the way he looked at her. As if he was committing her to memory. She didn’t want to think about leaving tomorrow. She couldn’t allow that to mar tonight. She would not make their last night together full of tears and long emotional conversations about their future. They had both gotten into this…thing…knowing that it would come to an end when the time came for her to go._

_She reminded herself of what Jeyne had said about flings: Keep it casual. Don’t put pressure on it. Just let it unfold naturally. If there is meant to be more, it will happen. If not, well, enjoy it while you can and then when you’re ready, move on._

_“You have me all night,” she murmured with a smile of her own._

_Jon nodded and bent down to kiss her. She could feel him hard against her._

_“That’s right,” he whispered as he dribbled kisses along her neck. “I have you…” he lifted her leg onto his hip “all night…” he placed himself at her core and pushed inside with a grunt “long.”_

**End Flashback**

To her horror, tears began to gather. It was stupid. So bloody stupid. She was the one who had left Winterfell with her dreams of pursuing a career in fashion. She could not bring herself to regret leaving, no matter how dicey it had been for a while. She had learned so much here. She had finally come into her own, no longer “Silly Sansa Stark” who was into “stupid things” like fashion. That was mostly what her younger sister Arya would say about her, but she knew that her family had thought she was chasing a pipe dream. 

She knew her parents were proud of her now, though they did express their wish for her to join a publication like the _Washington Post_ or the _New York Times_ , or _The New Yorker_. That was their own bias though, and Sansa tried not to let it bother her. 

She couldn’t look at that damn invitation anymore. It was making her nauseous. So, she picked it up and tossed it in the trash. She wasn’t going to go and she wasn’t going to waste another minute thinking about Jon and how she had lost him for good now.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon felt a pounding headache coming on as he watched Ygritte prepare for the day. She had been rambling on for the past ten minutes walking to and fro in the bedroom of their apartment. She was telling him all about the errands she had to run that day and loose ends she had to tie up before the wedding.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Jon looked over at his fiancé and sighed. “I’m sorry. I just have a bit of a headache coming on—”

Ygritte pursed her lips together and folded her arms across her chest.

_Fuck._

He was in trouble.

He held up a hand. “Ygritte—”

“I’m so sorry that listening to the things I have to do before our wedding is giving you a headache. Maybe you could actually be supportive during this whole process and help me. Do you have any idea how much I hate this shit too?”

“What do you mean I could actually be supportive?” he demanded, getting to his feet. Of all the things she could have said, that really pissed him off. He was nothing if not supportive of everything she did or wanted to do. “I have offered to do things and you’ve told me not to bother!”

“Because you’re clueless, Jon! You’ve no idea what you’re doing!”

Jon sighed. Well. He couldn’t really argue with that.

“Exactly,” she said brusquely, and stormed out of the room. “Don’t forget your tux today!” she hollered on her way down the hall.

He started to count. “One…two…” _Slam._ “There it is.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. He and Ygritte had never fought as much as they had the past few weeks.

Ygritte had told him angrily just a few days earlier that it was like he’d completely checked out the past month. He’d apologized profusely, citing that it was just work that was getting to him. He had a few new clients to represent at the firm he worked at, plus he was on a few boards in town having caught the town politics bug from Ned and Robb.

In actuality, he thought he might have a touch of cold feet.

It would explain why he kept doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Like looking at old pictures of Sansa he had in a photo album Catelyn had given him one year for his birthday, and even carrying one of Sansa in his wallet that he pulled out at random. 

He was doing it now, pulling out his wallet and extracting the picture he had tucked behind his insurance card and CVS card.

He smiled when he saw the picture, her beautiful smile beaming back at him, her hair loose around her face. The picture had been taken at a barbecue the summer before she left for New York. Their affair had started shortly after that barbecue.

He felt his heart clench as he gazed down at the picture. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He couldn’t stop thinking about things left unsaid, lost loves, and missed chances.

He’d been so in love with Sansa and he hadn’t known how to tell her. And she’d been so determined to pursue a career in fashion that he could not be that guy that stood in her way and asked her to stay with him instead. Sansa had drive and passion and talent and he wanted her dreams to come true.

He’d thought about going with her, but she’d never asked and he’d never worked up the courage to ask if she would like him to. And, if he was honest with himself – which lately was rare – he had been too afraid to leave the security of Winterfell and his family and friends to start out on a new adventure. He hadn’t even known what he was doing with his life at that point. How could he have contributed at all?

They’d been young and stupid, especially him. That was what Jon had kept telling himself over the years. Sansa had gone to university while he'd worked odd jobs hoping to figure out what he wanted to do with his life while Sansa had been making plans. She’d always wanted to go the States, and she’d dreamed of being in New York. She’d worked hard to save the money to go and he would often find her poring over sketches and adorning her dummy with new pieces.

By the time she and Jon had started their affair, Jon was working construction and was thinking about going to school. Then Sansa had happened and the only thing he wanted was her.

Yet he’d never fucking told her.

But, the truth was, at the root of it all – Jon had never felt good enough for her. His life had been a bit of a mess with Sansa being the only thing that made sense.

Could they have made a long-distance relationship work? A super long-distance relationship where she was in the States and he was in the UK?

That might have been too hard.

They hadn’t even been able to keep corresponding after she’d left. It had been too hard for him, and Sansa had been trying so hard to adjust to her new life that it had just stopped. The few times she’d come to visit over the years, Jon had made himself scarce. He’d told himself it had nothing to do with any residual feelings for her and that the thought of seeing her again and then having to watch her go was too hard to contemplate – but it was a lie. A big fat fucking lie.

He did end up going to school and getting himself together – he had a career now. And after a few failed relationships, he had a fiancé.

He was getting married.

_Married._

He stuffed the picture back in his wallet and stood. His heart was racing. He was starting to breathe heavy.

Fucking hell. Was he seriously having a panic attack?

He sat back down and put his head between his legs.

 _Breathe Targaryen_ , he thought. _Breathe._

Once he had gotten himself under control, he got up and got himself ready to pick up Sam and then head to the airport to get Robb. From there, they needed to get the tuxes for the big day. 

He felt his heart start to race again and he told himself to cut the shit. He loved Ygritte. He wanted to get married - otherwise why would he have said yes when she asked him to marry her? And all this wedding shit was annoying, yes, but his mother wanted to see her son walk down the aisle. It was more her big wedding day than his at this point. But that was fine. At least he could make one woman fucking happy in his life. 

xxxxx

"You're coming, right?" Catelyn Stark asked her daughter. 

Sansa winced at the tone. The tone that said, "You better be coming or I will fly out and drag you back here."

"Welllll," Sansa began. 

Her mother must have heard her tone which said, "I have a good reason not to come, just give me the floor for a minute to explain why."

"Sansa Stark. Jon is family. He is your cousin."

"Not really though, right?" 

"Sansa."

"Mum."

"He. Is. Your. Cousin. He is _family_. And you are going to come home and see the rest of your _family_ while you celebrate the joyous occasion of your _family_ member getting married." 

"Do you have a quota to reach with the word family today or...?"

"Sansa."

Sansa sighed. "Okay, Mom, yes. I'm coming."

"Thank you. Even your brother is coming out for this,and you know how he is swamped."

"Which brother? I have three."

"Which one do you think is swamped?"

"I don't know. Last time I was there, Bran was working on a hole to China. He could have made serious headway by now."

Catelyn sighed. Sansa grinned, then said, "I am swamped too, ya know. I mean, do you pay attention to American politics because they affect you too--"

"Of course I do! I have your every article, sweetheart!"

Sansa smiled. Well, shucks. 

"I'll let Jon know you're coming. Will there be a plus one?"

"Yup, definitely." Only Loras didn't know it. 

"A friend or...?"

Sansa smirked. "Mum, is this your way of fishing for information?"

"You tell me so little and you rarely come home, how else am I supposed to find out?"

"Social media, like everyone else."

"You know I don't use the book face."

"Facebook, Mom. Facebook."

"Whatever."

"It's fine, I don't post anything personal on there anyway. I keep it all about politics and my writing."

"See? So even if I did use the bookface--"

"Facebook."

"--I would learn nothing about your life anyway."

Sansa sighed. "I am seeing someone. His name is Loras Tyrell. I will be bringing him."

"Can you tell me about this one or do I have to wait to find out?"

Sansa grinned. "Wait to find out. Listen, mom, I gotta go now. I have an article to finish up." _And a friend to beg to come with me to the UK._ "I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Let me know what your flight plans are and we'll meet you at the airport."

The Starks unleashed at the airport to greet her. That would be kind of nice in a semi-cringeworthy kind of way. 

Sansa hung up the phone after a quick goodbye and sat back just as Loras came bursting in the door. "Okay, love, Brienne really needs that article."

Sansa bit her lip and looked at him. He narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"

"So, um, how do you feel about being my plus one to the wedding?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Tell me another story about Jon," Loras said, smiling with delight at Sansa. 

"Do you ever sleep?" Sansa grumbled, barely having peeled her eyes open from a restless sleep. They’d taken the red-eye out, and by the time they arrived in Winterfell it would be just shy of nine in the morning. And a quick glance at the time told her they'd be landing in about an hour. God, she wanted a shower. And more sleep. She looked over at a happy and excited Loras and wondered if there was sleep to be had again while on this trip. This dreadful trip. 

"I'm too excited to sleep. This will only be my third time in the UK, and I won't be working! Well, I will be, but not for the magazine."

Sansa looked at him with furrowed brow. "What kind of work are you going to be doing then?"

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with delight. "I am working as your devoted boyfriend...who will also gladly step aside for one Mr. Jon Targaryen."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Not that again."

"Again? How about still?"

"Loras, he's getting married. I'm not a homewrecker. I wouldn't even be going to this thing had my mother not laid the guilt on."

"The boy who rescued you from the decrepit tree house when you were younger tells me that boy has always loved you."

She looked at him, agahast. "He was ten!"

"So?"

Sansa rolled her eyes. "You're stretching."

"Am I though? Am I?"

"Yes, because you forgot the part where he and Robb stole the ladder going up to the treehouse in the first place. Listen, we need to remember to get phones."

Loras sighed. "I know. Who knew there were so many hoops to jump through with traveling abroad?"

"Tell me about it," Sansa muttered. 

Though she couldn't complain that much. Brienne had been fine with her and Loras taking a Friday through Monday off to attend the wedding. Her boss was pretty spectacular. And to be sure that Brienne appreciated her all the more, Sansa had passed in the rough bones of a new article so Brienne could look it over.

"Before we land I need to freshen up," Sansa said as she got up and scooted by him. First class was spectacular, but still, plane. 

“Are you anticipating that Jon will be there to greet us along with your family?” Loras asked with a wide smile. 

Sansa ignored him and grabbed her purse from the overhead and headed to the bathroom. 

No, she didn’t think Jon would be there at the airport to greet them with her family. Yet just in case he was. . . 

Sansa brushed her hair, touched up her makeup, reapplied deodorant and perfume, and then popped a mint in her mouth. She stared at herself in the mirror, turning from side to side, wondering if this was a good outfit to see Jon again in. _If_ she saw him again today. She wasn’t wearing anything particularly spectacular, just dark low rise jeans and white billowy top with a floral pattern. It hugged her in all right places. Not that she needed anyone to see that. Not that she cared. 

With an annoyed sigh, she left the bathroom and made her way to back to her seat. 

Loras looked up at her as she shimmied past him and sat down. “All fresh and gorgeous again I see,” he said. “Tell me again how you don’t care?” 

“Shut up,” she muttered. He just laughed. 

xxxxxxxx

Jon was not with her family, which was both a relief and a disappointment. But really, why would he be there considering they’d seen each other maybe twice since she’d left for the States, and both times their exchanges had been quick. In fact, both times, Jon was always just on his way to “do something else.” 

However, with the Starks, it was just as Sansa expected: chaos. 

They had a tendency to swoop. And be loud. They were both. Catelyn was of course excited to meet Loras, Ned, not so much. Bran, Rickon, and Arya sized them up in their own way. Robb, she’d been told, had been out with his girlfriend helping Jon do a few last minute wedding things. 

Arya, just a few years younger than Sansa, favored their father in looks – dark hair and gray eyes, which reminded Sansa of Jon. Arya had always been the tomboy of the family and though Sansa could see she was dressing a bit more feminine, her mistrust of others hadn’t really changed much. She watched Loras warily, and Sansa wondered if part of her game was to intimidate him by the narrowing of her eyes and the clear disapproval etched on her face. That wouldn’t surprise Sansa at all. However, Loras took it all in stride. He let quiet, introspective Bran softly question him about his interests and answered all of Rickon’s questions about what sports he was into. 

Though Sansa and Loras had discussed at length just how he was to be her “boyfriend”, Sansa had not expected him to do so well at it. He doted on her and sang her praises, making Sansa almost forget he was faking it. 

And if she could buy it this well knowing the truth, then her family certainly did and Jon certainly would. That’s what she wanted, right? For Jon to know she’d moved on too. 

“We’ll go home where you two can rest up,” Catelyn told her as they walked out of the airport arm-in-arm, Ned carrying her suitcase and garment bag. “Tonight, we’re going to have a small get together so you can see everyone.”

Sansa tried to sound nonchalant and not as nervous as she was beginning to feel. “Oh?”

“Well, your brother will be coming.”

“Won’t I just see him at the house then?”

“No, he and Roslin got a hotel room.” Dammit. Why hadn’t she thought of doing that?

“Okay, but I still don’t see why we need a get-together if it’s just us.”

“It’s not. Jon and Ygritte will be coming as well, along with his mother.”

Sansa wanted to turn back and find the next flight back to the States. “Great,” she managed to say. “It’ll be good to see everyone.”

“That’s what I figured! That’s why I set it all up.”

Sansa just smiled and tried not to freak out right there. So, she wasn’t going to have a whole day to prepare for seeing Jon again. She was just going to have the next several hours – and her mother expected her to nap before tonight?

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. 

xxxxxxxx

“Okay, how do I look?” Sansa asked several hours later when Loras gave her the go-ahead to enter the guest bedroom. Her father, ever the traditionalist, refused to allow Sansa and Loras to share a room. She was staying in her old bedroom, which was just another guest room now. Robb’s was a study, so Sansa supposed it was a good idea he had decided to get a hotel room. All that could fit in his old bedroom now was an air mattress. 

Loras buttoned up his dress shirt and looked her over. “Immaculate. Perfect. Gorgeous. You’re a vision. A light in the dark of—”

“That’s enough.”

She smoothed down the skirt of her dress, a blue concoction that had the appearance of being a wrap-around that tied at the waist with a silk blue ribbon and fell to below her knees. It was simple, modest, and casual enough so that she wouldn’t be accused of dressing up. 

She’d curled her hair into a slight wave and left it loose. She’d kept her makeup light, and she’d dabbed on just a touch of perfume, and slipped on a pair of black heels. 

“Am I missing something?” she asked with a frown. 

“Sleep?” He yawned. “I slept for a couple hours, but I’m still exhausted. Did you get any rest?”

“For like twenty minutes. Don’t let me have too much wine. I’ll just pass out at dinner if I have more than a glass.”

“You’re wound tighter than a drum. I can’t decide if you need wine or a shot of tequila.”

“Tequila combined with the butterflies in my belly might make me throw up.”

“Wine it is then.”

“Do I look like I haven’t slept in…forever?”

“It’s been over twelve hours. And no.”

“Math was never my strong suit.” She gestured at him. “You look handsome.” He wore black dress pants, a pale blue shirt and shiny black shoes. His blond glossy curls were especially glossy and as usual, his blue eyes held some mischief. 

“Thanks,” he said. “I know though.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Hey, I never got a chance to say good job on the whole acting like my boyfriend thing. You did amazing.”

He grinned. “I ever tell you at one time I wanted to be an actor? This is the role of a lifetime.”

Sansa rolled her eyes again. 

“Sansa, Loras, you coming down?” Catelyn called from downstairs. 

“Her voice can fucking _carry_ ,” Loras said with wide-eyed astonishment. 

“She’s the mother of five. She had to make sure she was heard over all of us shitheads.”

Loras chuckled and held out his arm. “Ready, mi’lady?”

Sansa slipped her arm through his. “Not at all.”

He laughed as they left the room and started down the stairs. “No worries. Loras is here. I’ve got your back.”

“That means a lot, you don’t even know—”

“Is that my little sister’s voice I hear?”

Sansa looked up and found Robb standing at the bottom of the stairs, a big grin on his handsome face. His auburn curls were shorter than usual, and he still had his signature beard. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked at her. 

Squealing, Sansa broke free of Loras, and barreled down the stairs as well as she could in heels. Robb caught her in his arms at the bottom of the stairs and they laughed together. 

“Robb!” she exclaimed. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you too, San,” he said. 

And then, over Robb’s shoulder, was Jon, staring at her. 

Sansa’s mouth went dry, but she forced a smile and said, “Hello, Jon.”


	4. Chapter 4

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her. Robb set her down and stepped aside. 

Jon stepped forward. “Hello, Sansa. It’s been a long time.”

Not wanting to make this more awkward than it already was by treating him like nothing more than a stranger, Sansa stepped into him and hugged him. “It’s good to see you,” she said softly. 

It took a minute for him to respond and Sansa worried she’d overstepped her bounds. But then his arms came around him, though stiffly. “It’s good to see you too,” he murmured. 

Jon pushed away from her quickly, leaving Sansa a bit disoriented and then he was gesturing to someone behind her. “I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Ygritte.”

That hurt. Like a punch to her gut. She plastered on the serene smile she used when hob-knobbing with politicians she could not stand and held out her hand to the redhead. 

Redhead. 

Interesting. 

She had blue eyes too. _Okay, Sansa, lots of people have blue eyes. Even redheads. Calm the hell down._

“Hello, Ygritte, it’s nice to meet you,” Sansa said in that faux warm way she had. Also used when dealing with politicians she couldn’t stand. 

The other woman was pretty in an odd square-jawed kind of way. If you liked tiny eyes that were too close together. 

_Stop being mean, Sansa_ , she scolded herself. 

Sansa looked her up and down, wondering why in the world Ygritte was wearing a dress two sizes too big for her. _Ha, I look better,_ she thought triumphantly. Then she sighed and thought, _Christ_. She looked over to Loras for help. 

Loras swooped in, putting his hand at Sansa’s back. “Hello, I’m Loras, Sansa’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you, Ygritte.”

Jon came up beside Ygritte and Loras stuck his hand to him. “Jon, is it?” Sansa fought back a laugh – as if he hadn’t been chomping at the bit to meet Jon since the invitation had come in. 

Jon’s jaw was clenched as he took Loras’s hand. “Loras,” he grunted. 

“Quite a grip you got there,” Loras said, nudging Sansa discreetly. 

Sansa wanted to ask what his deal was, but he wouldn’t look at her so she just kept on smiling. 

“Do you have a last name, Loras?” Robb asked, coming up beside Jon and narrowing his eyes at Loras. 

“No, Robb, he’s like Madonna or Cher. No last name required,” Sansa said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Tyrell,” Loras told Robb. “I work with Sansa.”

“Well, that answers the ‘how did you meet’ question,” Ygritte said with a little laugh. 

_Don’t be funny, Ygritte_ , Sansa thought. _I don’t want to like you._

Though liking her would be better. Easier. Well, shit. “So, how did you and Jon meet, Ygritte?” she asked. 

“At a bar,” Ygritte said with a laugh. “I used to bartend at this little dive and Jon would come in a lot. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends. We talked, but he never asked me out. So, I finally asked him.”

“That sounds about right,” Sansa blurted out, remembering how Jon had confessed when they’d started fooling around together how he’d wanted to kiss her for a while. _And hadn’t._ Because _Jon._

Ygritte looked at her funny and Sansa laughed easily. “He’s just always been so shy,” she explained. She turned her attention to Robb. “Where is your girlfriend?”

“Helping Mom set the table.”

“Oh, well, I’d like to meet her.”

Robb grinned. “You will.”

“Would you like a drink, honey?” Loras asked. 

“Yes, please,” Sansa said. 

Loras led the way to the fridge and Sansa followed, eager to get away from Jon and his thousand yard stare. 

She and Loras chatted briefly about the wine selection and then poured their respective glasses. While Loras poured, Sansa stood close by him and attempted to pretend she was watching Loras while she was really watching Robb, Jon, and Ygritte talk. 

“So, he’s fucking hot,” Loras muttered. “Up close and personal? I’d do him in a heartbeat.”

“Do you want me to put in a good word for you?”

Loras shot her a look and she shrugged. “He also gripped my hand so tight I think he was trying to break it.”

Sansa just blinked at him in confusion. 

Loras turned so that he was facing her, and for anyone watching it would look as though the two “lovebirds” might just be having an intimate conversation. “He gripped my hand that tight because he’s jealous, Sansa,” Loras said lowly. 

“Or maybe you’re just a wimp? I remember tapping you on the arm once and you acted like I punched you.”

“Because you _did_. And you’re freakishly strong.”

She poked him and he winced. She arched her brows as if to say ‘see?’ and Loras shook his head. “How can someone as brilliant as you be so completely clueless?”

“Because there is nothing here for me to get, Loras. Nothing has happened except a hello.”

“A very stiff and awkward hello in which Jon looked as if it pained him to hug you. Why, you might ask? Because he still has feelings for you and seeing you again has got him shook. I saw the slack-jawed look of disbelief when you walked in the room, Sansa. That boy is thirsty. For you.”

“I’m so torn right now.”

“We just need to figure out how to get the two of you alone—”

“Not about that,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “On the one hand, if you’re right about what you saw, I think – how are you just an assistant with your unbelievable observational skills. And on the other hand, I think if all of that is bullshit but you still think you saw it, then you need to lay off the Rom Coms stat.”

“I saw it, Sansa,” Loras hissed. 

“Hey, lovebirds, you ready for dinner?” Robb called out. 

Sansa smiled at her brother, “Of course!”

“Okay, and also? Stop smiling like that,” Loras told her. “You’re reminding me of the Crypt Keeper.”

“What does that even mean?” Sansa hissed. But he was already walking away and Sansa had no choice but to grab her wine and follow. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Of course Sansa would be seated across from him at the table. So, every time Jon looked up from his plate, there she was. In all her gorgeous glory, in all her elegance and grace, in all her witty retorts to Robb and Arya’s teasing. 

She’d grown so much. She was still as beautiful as she’d always been, but she was older now. A woman. Her hair was darker than he remembered and he found himself glancing at Ygritte and her red hair and wondering if it would darken like Sansa’s. 

_Cut it out_ , he scolded himself. 

Seeing Sansa again…she took his breath away. 

It had actually kind of pissed him off. 

She’d never personally RSVP’d to the invitation. Aunt Catelyn had for her. And a _guest._ Her _boyfriend._

He’d brushed it off – of course she’d have a boyfriend and besides, he had a fiancé. He had no right to be jealous. He had no right to miss her as he did. And he had no right – nor any business – feeling that jolt of want when he saw her again. Christ, just hearing her voice had done him in. 

That worn picture in his wallet didn’t do her justice. Sansa was always mature for her age. Always so poised. But this Sansa had polish. 

He wanted to smudge that polish. Flashes of her coming undone under him flitted through his mind’s eye and he had to keep his face down, focusing squarely on his plate. 

“You okay, son?” his mother, Lyanna, asked to the right of him. He looked up at her and smiled. “I’m okay. Just a little tired I think.”

“I made him take care of some stuff for the wedding for me today,” Ygritte chimed in. “He got a taste of what it’s been like for me.”

Lyanna pursed her lips together a bit, a sure sign she didn’t like what Ygritte had said. Though his Mum had never outright said she didn’t like Ygritte, Jon knew she didn’t exactly love her either. All she kept saying to him was, “If she makes you happy then I’m happy.” So, yeah, not exactly a ringing endorsement. 

But he also knew his mother had begun to think he’d never get married and give her grandkids. So, in a way, she was going to get what she wanted from his union with Ygritte, too. 

Kids. Jon winced at the thought. He wanted kids; he’d always wanted kids. But they were forever. They tied two people together forever. 

_You know what else does that, genius?_ he thought. _Marriage._

He looked over at Sansa and wished he hadn’t. She was smiling so brightly he felt it like an ache in his heart. How much he had loved her…

She and Loras exchanged looks and he felt angry again. 

He was taken, she was taken – how dare she come back here and dredge up all those old feelings? How dare she make him have cold feet? How dare she bring someone with her, someone from her new life that he was most decidedly not a part of?

No. No. It wasn’t her he was angry at. It was himself. Sansa was being Sansa. She was family and she being supportive and kind and thought the past was the past. He should think that way too: the past was in the past. 

He was getting married in a few days after all. He just needed to get a grip and man up. He looked over at Ygritte, thinking maybe they could as in sync as Sansa and Loras seemed to be, but she never even looked his way. 

xxxxxxx

After dinner, it’s a flurry of cleaning up. She had forgotten how overwhelming it could be to be caught in the middle of what felt like a Stark stampede. Plus, Ygritte was kind of annoying her. For no other reason than just the fact that she existed. 

So, when no one was looking, she ducked outside to the porch. She heaved a sigh, sucking in as much of the cool night air as she could into her lungs. 

“You had to get out of there, too?”

Sansa let out a squeak and jumped a mile as she looked over to her side. Jon emerged from the shadows, the lights from inside the house just barely illuminating him. 

Loras would do a jig right now if he knew that she was out here alone with him. Sansa rather felt she wanted to run back inside. 

She sniffed the air. She frowned as she looked at Jon. “Are you smoking?”

He laughed softly. “You found me out.”

“I thought you’d quit? Mom said you had.”

“I started again. Just since the past couple months. Don’t tell Ygritte.”

“I won’t, but won’t she eventually catch on?”

“Not if I keep wearing the cologne she likes and sucking on mints.”

“It’s not good for you, you know. It’ll kill you.”

“Really? Have there been any studies on it that I could read?”

She laughed softly. “So, Ygritte seems really nice, Jon.” _That lie is right up there with the time I told Sean Spicer it was nice to meet him,_ she thought. 

A flash of annoyance crossed his face and she wondered why. “Loras is a bit of a pretty boy, isn’t he?” he finally said. 

She hadn’t expected that. At all. “He’s actually more than that,” she began. “He’s really smart and—”

“I need to get back inside before Ygritte starts looking for me,” he said abruptly and stormed back into the house. 

Sansa stood there, stunned. Was it possible Loras had been onto something?


	5. Chapter 5

Jon lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His eyes hurt and he was pretty certain that was because he hadn’t slept much the night before. All night he’d gone over the greatest hits of his relationship with Sansa: the first time he kissed her, the first time he was inside her, the time the sprinklers on the lawn turned on when he’d tried sneaking up to her bedroom and she’d laughed hysterically from her window, and then all the times they ever laughed together and made love. 

Their whole relationship was a greatest hit. 

Ygritte shifted beside him and Jon shut his eyes, hoping she’d be convinced he was fast asleep. He heard the bed creek as she sat up, and then he heard her pad off to the bathroom and the door shut. 

He opened his eyes again and resumed his staring and just ruminating. 

When Ygritte emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing nothing but a towel, he thought of the times Sansa had showered at his place and he’d almost always coerced her back into his bed after. He’d never been able to resist a naked, wet Sansa Stark. 

He’d never been able to resist Sansa period. He remembered how just a day apart from her had filled him with longing. Then, when they finally would see one another her desire had matched his and they could barely resist finding the first secluded spot and available surface and taking each other hard and fast. That was always the first round. The second round would be slower, they’d take their time, whispering to each other and laughing together. 

Had he ever wanted Ygritte as much as he’d wanted Sansa?

Ygritte sat down facing, still in her towel. She smiled. “Hey. What time did you finally come to bed?”

He felt a rather large twinge of guilt. He’d stayed up well after Ygritte had gone up to bed, poring over that old photo album, studying each picture of Sansa. He’d had a panic attack when he reminded himself he was getting married in just two days now, and after he’d managed to get himself under control he’d been exhausted enough for bed. 

“I don’t remember,” he mumbled. 

“I’m going into the office for a bit,” Ygritte said. “Take care of a few things so I don’t have to worry about it before the honeymoon.”

Honeymoon. Jesus. He felt like he was on a roller coaster just going up the first hill and wishing he could get off before it crested. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

“You going to be seeing your family today?”

Jon nodded. Today, was the final fitting for the tuxes with Robb. Then he was going over his Mom’s to help her with dinner that night. Yesterday it was the Starks, tonight it was his Mom’s. It’s what the families did – they got together. A lot. He was just glad he’d cashed in on his vacation time for all of this. 

Ygritte leaned over him and Jon instinctively dug his head back in the pillow as though he could move away from her. He was trapped. “Miss me today?” she purred and ran her fingers along his collarbone. 

“Of course,” he croaked. 

She grinned, kissed him, and then got up to dress. 

_I don’t think I can do this,_ he thought. 

His mind drifted back to Sansa. 

And it was all her fault. 

************

Jon braced himself for seeing Sansa and her pretty boy toy again when he pulled into the Stark’s driveway. Robb had told Jon to meet him at the house. Any free time Robb had this weekend would be spent at home with his family, Jon knew that. But that didn’t mean his body didn’t tense up as though he was bracing for impact. 

He’d just gotten out of the car when Sansa came out of the house in a pretty little sundress that fell to her knees and made Jon’s mouth dry. It almost felt like going back in time to when he would come over to hang out at the house and Sansa would greet him at the door for a quick kiss before they were mobbed by the family all day. 

And now, for a moment so small he wondered if he’d imagined it, she looked like a deer caught in the headlights at the sight of him. Then she smiled and waved. “Hullo, Jon.”

“Hey,” he grunted as he made his way up the front steps to where she stood near the patio furniture and swing.

“Robb’s inside,” she chirped. “I hope you don’t mind, but Arya, Loras, Roslin and I are going to join you and Robb. We thought we might all get lunch after you got the tuxes. That won’t take long, right?”

Jon’s throat felt tight. He shook his head. 

Her smile faltered. “Are you okay?”

No, he wasn’t. “Why are you here, Sansa?” he demanded. 

She looked gobsmacked by that. “What—what do you mean why am I here? For your wedding—”

“I didn’t think you’d come. I didn’t plan on it.”

“Is there a problem with my being here?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said harshly. “I don’t want you here.”

Now she looked as though he’d slapped her. He regretted his words instantly, and as per usual they’d all come out wrong. “Sansa—”

The door opened and out came the family. It was always like this. Never a moment alone with everyone around. 

“I think Loras and I are going to stay home after all,” Sansa said to her brother. “I’ve had this headache all morning.’

“You never said anything,” Robb said with a frown. 

“I thought it would go away. Sorry. I’ll see you guys tonight though.”

She headed into the house with Loras right behind her and Jon felt like the biggest fucking asshole on the planet. 

_Well, Targaryen_ , he thought. _That’s because you are._

xxxxxxxxxx

“So you’re going to marry Roslin?” Jon asked when he and Robb actually a moment alone after getting the tuxes and after lunch. 

Arya and Roslin were inside a candy shop that Roslin had wanted to go into, and Jon and Robb opted to wait outside for them. 

Robb smiled. “If she’ll have me.”

He looked so goddamn happy and in love it made Jon sick. 

All day he’d been feeling as though he could crawl right out of his skin. As the day grew closer he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. After putting the tux on, he’d had to put his head between his legs to stave off a panic attack. 

All day he’d thought about getting married and wanting to apologize to Sansa and explain himself. But what could he say as an explanation for being such an asshole to her this morning: I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past few weeks and seeing you again and with someone else has fucked me up because I keep thinking about us and how much I loved you and I don’t want to get…

Shit.

 _I don’t want to get married_ , Jon thought. 

“Jon? You okay?” Robb asked. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Robb was his best friend, but he was also Sansa’s brother and there was no way in hell he could talk to Robb about this now. There would be a lot he'd have to explain and might end up getting punched in the process. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling as though he was breaking out in a cold sweat. Also, oddly, he felt as though a weight was lifting from his shoulders. His mind raced with the possibilities – he could put a stop to the wedding. He could not marry Ygritte. He could be free. He could tell Sansa how he felt. Even if she was with some other guy, he could still tell her. Be fucking honest with her for once. He would have to give her up again, because he was pretty certain she loved that pretty boy, and she did have a career to get back to in the States, but fuck. Wasn't it saying nothing at all that got him to this point right here right now? He had a tux in his car he wasn’t sure he could put on in two days, and a fiancé who bossed him around. 

But even if he couldn’t have Sansa, even if after all was said and done it was just too late – and really, how could ten years not be too late? – he could still be free. He wouldn’t be saddled with a woman that he didn’t love, that he wasn’t sure he ever truly had loved, and he would set her free too. She deserved to find someone who felt about her the way he felt about Sansa. 

“Jon, dude. Seriously. What’s wrong?” Robb asked. 

“I uh…I need to get to my Mom’s,” he finally said. 

Robb blinked. “Your Mom’s?”

Jon nodded. “Yeah, I need to help her with tonight and I really need to wrap this up. You mind?”

Robb shook his head, but still looked at him as though he just knew Jon was keeping something from him. “Let me get the girls,” Robb said and headed for the candy shop.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon realized he probably sounded a bit melodramatic when his Mum opened the door at her home and the first words out of his mouth were, "Mum, I need your help."

His words, plus his tone, and probably the look on his face, caused Lyanna to usher him inside with haste. She led him down the kitchen where she got down to the business of making tea for them. Jon sat at her kitchen table, and watched her move about. "You got any chocolate chip cookies?" he asked hopefully. "Or scones?"

"No scones, but there are cookies in the cookie jar."

Jon picked up the entire jar and brought it to the table. 

"What's happening?" Lyanna asked, eyeing him as he dug into the jar and pulled out a stack of cookies. 

Jon heaved a sigh. "I've come to a decision."

"And that is?"

"I can't marry Ygritte."

His Mum’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. “Pardon?”

“I know you’re dying for grandchildren, Mum, but I’m not in love with her and I can’t marry her—”

“Oh, thank God!”

Jon clamped his mouth shut at the same time the kettle started whistling. He watched her shut the stove off, pour the water into the teapot on a tray with all the tea things, and then bring it all over. 

“Honey,” Lyanna said, “That woman was going to make you miserable and I’m just glad that you figured it out now rather than later. I was already preparing for the day you were going to tell me you were getting a divorce.”

Jon blinked. “Why – why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I thought you really loved her! Why else would you agree to marry her?”

He frowned. “Because I’m stupid?”

She bristled at that. “You’re not stupid.”

“I am,” he said forlornly. “I let the woman I loved – the woman I _still_ love – get away. I never told her I loved her when I had the chance. She left and started a new life and I still never told her. Instead, I settled for someone who wasn’t right for me and then hurt the woman I love—”

“Jon,” Lyanna said, reaching across the table and taking his hand. “What are you talking about? Who is this woman you love? Where did she go? And how did you insult her?”

He heaved a sigh, opened his mouth and said, “Tea ready yet?”

His mother shot him a look and poured herself and him tea. They prepared it the way they wanted and took their first sips. Then, Lyanna had enough with waiting. “Who is the woman you love, Jon?”

Jon made sure his mother didn’t have a mouthful of tea before he said, “Sansa.”

His mother’s jaw dropped for the second time. “Pardon?”

“Sansa. Sansa Stark. You know – blue eyes, red hair—”

“Your _cousin_?”

Jon wagged a finger at her. “Technically, she’s not my cousin. There is no actual blood between us.”

Lyanna nodded slowly. Jon could tell she was processing, and so he waited for her to do so. “All right then. Sansa. Our Sansa.”

He nodded. “That’s right. Our Sansa.”

“When did – how—?”

He dug in the cookie jar for another cookie and took a bite. “Right then, so Sansa and I had a bit of a fling the summer before she left for the States.”

His mother’s eyes went wide. “You had a _fling_?”

“For a whole summer.”

Lyanna looked positively gobsmacked. “I had no idea.”

“No one did. We kept it a secret from everyone. You did almost catch us at a family gathering once though. I took Sansa to the pantry and you almost walked in on us.”

She sat back, just staring at him for a while and then she shook her head. “My God, you had sex in front of the canned goods?”

He smirked. “And the cereal.”

“And you love her?”

Jon nodded, solemn once again. “With all my heart and soul.”

“But you never told her?”

He looked down at his hands and set the cookie in his hand down. “I never did. I didn’t want to hold her back from her dream of going to New York and making it as a fashion designer. I didn’t even know what I was doing with my life then. No, wait, I know. I was doing nothing. I was just drifting.”

Lyanna frowned. “Yes, you were.”

“See? So how could I tell her I’d fallen in love with her when I had nothing to offer her? I was barely scraping by and she had all these plans…”

“You still should have told her. She had a right to know.”

“I took it to mean she didn’t feel the same way when she never said it to me either.”

Lyanna rolled her eyes. “Oh for crying out loud. You were both idiots.”

“Mum!”

“Well, you were. If Sansa was in love with you she was probably waiting for you to say it to her while you’re waiting for her to say it to you! The both of you could have saved a lot of precious time and energy by just being honest with one another. What was the worst that could have happened? You have a long distance relationship for a while?”

“A long distance relationship that could have ended horribly.”

“I don’t see how this is much better! Your wedding is in two days, remember?”

“My wedding _was_ in two days,” Jon clarified. “I can’t do it. I won’t.”

“Jon, listen to me. Love is worth the risk. It always is. Even if you fall flat on your face and your heart gets ripped out, it’s better to take the risk than to never try.”

Jon’s lips quirked up in to a smile. “It’s a wonder where I got my romantic side from.”

Lyanna rolled her eyes. “Your father.”

Jon barked out a laugh. “Dad would approve then?”

“Your father would tell you to scale towers and slay dragons to be with the woman you loved.”

He sighed. “Well, I do have one dragon to slay…”

Lyanna looked at him knowingly. “Ygritte.”

He nodded. 

“You tell her soon. You really have no choice now that you’re sure. And you are sure?”

He nodded again. 

“Then you have to tell her. Do it tonight. Get it over with so that you can then tell Sansa you love her.”

He winced. “She’s with that pretty boy though. She seems happy with him. Can I really tell her now? Should I?”

“Have you been paying attention to me at all?” she demanded. 

He laughed. “I have. I suppose I’m just scared is all. What if she tells me it’s too late?”

“Then you know. Otherwise, you’ll always wonder, won’t you?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

“Besides, I’m certain Loras is gay.”

Jon laughed. “Oh really? Not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Lyanna shook her head. “I’m not. He spent ten minutes talking to me about shoes, Jon.”

He laughed again. And then frowned. “I hurt her today, Mum.”

Now she frowned. “How?”

“I told her that I didn’t want her here, that she shouldn’t have come.”

Lyanna threw her hands up. “Why in the world did you do that for?!”

“Because seeing her again…it brought back all those feelings. Feelings I thought I’d buried…well, except for the fact that I’ve been carrying a picture of her around for the past couple weeks.”

“Jon, my God, and you were going to go through with this wedding?” Lyanna sounded downright bewildered. 

“I didn’t want to let anyone down. You helped us pay for this, her parents helped, I know you want grandchildren, family flew out for this…”

“Jon Targaryen, none of that matters. It’s best you did it now rather than six months from now. What if she’d ended up pregnant? Then you would be saddled with her for the rest of your life. And if you ended up divorced later on, the same amount of money would have spent, only it would have been for something that never should have happened. I won’t lie and say this is ideal timing, it’s not, but later would have been harder and worse. Now is better.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Jon smiled at her. “Thank you, Mum.”

“Listen, the family is due over in a couple hours for dinner. I’m not going to cancel on them all. You go tell Ygritte now that it’s over, then you come back here, because I’ve no doubt you’ll be the one kicked out despite the fact that it’s your name on the lease for that place, and you’ll tell the family. Then, you are going to tell Sansa you love her. You got it?”

He nodded. “I got it.”

She pointed at him. “Get ready to grovel. To Sansa. Not Ygritte." She smirked. "Thank God I'll never have to hear that woman boss you around again!"


	7. Chapter 7

Jon had never been so nervous in his life. Waiting for Ygritte to come home so he could tell her that they were over was nerve-wracking. He busied himself while he waited with packing as much as he could while he waited. 

And then, as he was zipping up a duffel bag, she arrived. 

It was then that Jon could admit to himself that he was actually a little afraid of Ygritte. She was a force to be reckoned with, and not in the good way. While she could be perfectly lovely, she could also be a bit confrontational and had a "my way or the highway" kind of attitude. 

Why had he settled? Why hadn't he just gotten his head out of his ass and done something about the feelings that never went away for Sansa instead of just falling into a relationship and then an engagement with someone else? None of this was Ygritte's fault. It wasn't anything she had done; she had been who she was the whole time. It was just him that couldn't apparently get his head out of his ass. His professional life had changed for the better, but he'd allowed his personal life to sink into the shitter. 

"Jon! I thought you'd be at your Mom's," Ygritte said when they both entered the kitchen at the same time. 

"We need to talk," he said. Best to get it done and over with as quickly as possible. 

Except quickly didn't quite work when you were breaking your engagement off with someone. Especially two days before the wedding. 

First, she didn't accept it and kept telling him he just had cold feet. Then she wanted to know what she could to do help, which just made Jon feel worse. She was concerned and wanted to help, and he was going to break her fucking heart. 

After that, it started to set in that he meant it. Tears came first, which made him feel absolutely awful, and then the anger set in. She shouted at him with tears streaming down her face at first, and then the tears dried up and she screamed at him to get out. When she discovered that he'd been packing before she arrived, that made it worse. 

She chucked a vase at him as he was shutting the door. God, he felt awful. He felt like the scum on the bottom of someone's shoe. No, he felt like the scum on top of the scum on the bottom of someone's shoe. 

And it wasn't over yet. He still had to apologize to Sansa. He still had to tell his family, if his mother hadn't already, about what was going on. He knew he'd probably missed dinner completely considering what was supposed to take two hours had taken three and a half.

When he got to his Mum's, he discovered that dinner had already been served, and that they, minus Sansa, all knew. In a moment's panic, he asked where Sansa was and Robb narrowed his eyes at Jon suspiciously before saying that Sansa had opted to stay home on account of a migraine. 

That was a lie, and Jon knew it. He wondered if Robb did too. Or, judging by the way Jon had asked where she was, if he was beginning to suspect. 

"What happened?" Robb asked as they all congregated in the living room. Jon stood at the head of the room, in front of the fireplace, and all eyes were focused on him. 

"I'm not in love with Ygritte. Not the way a husband-to-be is supposed to love his future wife," Jon explained. "It's as simple and as complicated as that."

"I liked her," Arya said with a shrug. 

"I didn't know her well enough," Robb chimed in. 

"That's because you're never home," Arya told him with a roll of her eyes. 

"Such is life of a politician, kid."

"Don't call me kid."

"How did she take it, Jon?" Catelyn asked. 

Jon sighed. "Not well. I mean...I did a really shitty thing, sorry, Aunt Cat for my language..."

She dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "And how are you, Jon?" she asked. 

"I feel pretty awful," he said, and had the creeping sense he might just start crying. He'd hurt someone he cared about, even if he didn't love her, and he'd let down a lot of people. "I'm sorry," he said and choked back tears. "I'm sorry to all of you who put money and help into this wedding."

With that, they all got up to hug him, lend words of comfort, joke with him and try to make him laugh. Just as any family would do. It helped. It helped a lot. But he couldn't help but wonder - and worry - how they would be when they found out that he was in love with Sansa and that once upon a time, they had had an affair behind all their backs. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Jon crammed the last bit of food from dinner in his mouth and looked over at his mother who sat across from him at the kitchen table. She reached over and rubbed his arm. "How are you feeling now, honey? A bit better not that you ate?"

"Yes and no. I mean...I know that Ygritte is not the right woman for me, but it's still sad. And I think what makes it sadder is that I hurt her so badly. She was devastated, Mum."

Lyanna sighed. "I may not have liked her very much, but I do feel sorry for her in that respect. A broken heart is the pits."

Jon laughed at his mother's phrasing. "It is."

"And what do you plan to do now?"

He knew exactly what Lyanna was getting at. "I'm going to tell Sansa, but not tonight. I'm wiped. I'll see her first thing tomorrow." He put his fork down and stared down at his plate. "Mum?"

"Yes?"

"What if she doesn't accept it? What if she really is in love with Larry?"

"Loras."

"Whatever."

"Will that make you change your mind about Ygritte?"

Jon looked at his mother as though she'd grown three heads. "No."

"Then it will hurt. A lot. But then at least you'll know and not wonder. Eventually you'll be able to move on."

Jon had serious doubts about that. Ten years hadn't stopped his feelings for Sansa. He highly doubted even the rejection of his feelings and, well, him, would stop them now. 

xxxxxxxxxxx

The last thing Sansa expected to hear when her family returned home from Aunt Lyanna's was that Jon had called off the wedding. That he wasn't in love with her. That he simply could not go through with it. 

All day since he'd told her he didn't want her there, she had been trying to find ways to catch the first flight out back to the States without tipping her entire family off that something was wrong. Loras was of no help. While he did call Jon a "dick" for it, he then found some way to turn it around as a positive. "Sansa, it means that you are making him doubt getting married. It means he still has feelings for you!"

She'd told him to get the hell out of her bedroom then. Later, he made it up to her by getting them Chinese food and pizza for dinner followed by ice cream for dessert. He even admitted he'd watched way too many Rom Coms and said again that Jon was a dick. 

Then the family had come home with the news that Jon had called off the wedding and Loras had started all over again until she told him to get out of her room yet again. Jesus, just the look on his face when he got her alone. One would have thought he'd just been told Trump had been impeached. 

Now, she was alone again, in her old bed and staring up at the ceiling wondering if it was possible Loras was right. Wondering what she should do. 

Nothing. 

She was going to do nothing. 

She wasn't going to presume, she wasn't going to go talk to him and offer her sympathies. Despite the fact that they were considered family, they weren't close anymore. And he'd been a dick to her. 

So, no. She was going to do absolutely nothing. Not even sleep apparently. 

She heard a click. Like a tap. She narrowed her eyes and glared at her closed door. “Go away, Loras,” she whispered. 

She heard it again and got up, annoyed, and swung open the door. 

Loras wasn’t there. 

Okayyyyy…..

She heard it again and looked towards the window. Nooo….was someone….? Noooo….. But who?

Creeping over to her window, she stood off to the side and pulled back the curtain just a tad and peered down. 

Jon. 

Jon was down there. 

She moved the curtain out of the way and lifted her window up, followed by the screen. She leaned out and hissed, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” he hissed back and then laughed a little. 

“Are you drunk?” she asked, her nose wrinkling in disgust. 

“No. I might be a little delirious though.”

“Ssshhhh!” 

“Can I come up?”

She sighed and then shook her head. “Everyone is asleep.”

He held up a finger for her to wait and ran off. She wondered what he was doing now when he appeared with a ladder. She gaped at him. “Jon, no,” she whispered. “It’s not even tall enough!”

“It’s fine,” he whispered back. “I can climb the rest of the way on the tree. You know, like the good old days.”

She pursed her lips together. The good old days, eh? So he was acknowledging their past. Did that mean…something?

She pushed the screen up further and then the window and waited. She couldn’t watch him climb the tree. If she heard him fall, she’d help, but she couldn’t watch him potentially hurt himself. 

She sat down on the bed, her heart racing and her hands shaking. What was happening? Was this even real? Was Jon really climbing up to her bedroom window like he used to? Why? Why was he doing this?

_Loras would love this…_

Jon’s head popped through the window and she gasped, rearing back with her hand on her heart. 

He laughed softly. “You knew I was coming up.”

She got up and came over to help him. “You still scared me.”

She helped pull him in, but somehow it ended up that they both fell to her floor, with him on top. They both grunted as they fell and then Jon pushed himself up on his arms and smiled down at her. “This brings back memories.”

“What are you _doing_?” she asked incredulously and pushed him off of her. She scooted back against her bed, drawing her legs up against her chest as though they could shield her from whatever was happening. 

Jon sat up and sat back against the wall under the window. “You heard I called it off?”

She nodded slowly. “I did. Why did you do that?”

He held up his finger again and turned slightly to the side. Was he going to fart in her bedroom now? What the fuck? But no, he pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and opened it up. 

She furrowed her brow as she watched him rifle through and then extract a picture. He handed it over, and she took it gingerly. 

It was a picture of her. She remembered when it was taken too. Just before their affair had started. She looked up at him. “Why is this is in your wallet?”

“Because I’ve been carrying it around for the past few weeks.”

“Is that why it’s wrinkled?” she asked with slight smile. 

“Yeah.”

“Jon—”

“I was going to wait until morning to come over and talk to you. I was going to apologize for what I said this morning. I was a dick.”

“You were,” she murmured. 

“I was in the guest room at my mother’s and thinking that I really hurt your feelings today and that you’d probably heard by now that I called off the wedding.”

Sansa nodded slowly. “I did.”

“And I got to thinking – what if Sansa decided there was no reason for her to stay now and she and Larry—”

“Loras.”

“—took the first flight out? What if I never got to tell her that I fell in love with her so desperately ten years ago and that I never stopped?”

She stopped breathing. She swore she stopped breathing. “Jon,” she gasped. 

He got up on his hands and knees and crawled over to her. He stopped right before her and sat back on his heels. “If you and Larry are serious and you want to be with him, then I’ll step aside. But if I haven’t completely fucked everything up and you maybe still at least care about me somewhat then—”

Sansa never let him finish. She moved quickly to her knees, framed his face with her hands, and kissed him.


	8. Chapter 8

“Is this happening?” Jon mumbled as he pulled Sansa against him. He couldn’t stop kissing her, touching her, his hands wandered down her sides over her back. Her hands were now in his hair and he shivered. 

“It’s happening,” she whispered and nibbled at his earlobe. 

Jon moaned, sliding his hands over her ass. He was hardening and he wanted to feel her against him despite the fact that he felt on some level this had to be wrong. He’d just ended his engagement that day, for Christ’s sake.

But he had also been without Sansa for _ten fucking years_. 

He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her hard. “Sansa,” he gasped and looked at her. “What about Larry?”

“Larry – _Loras_ – and I are just friends,” she said breathlessly. “He’s gay. I asked him to come because I didn’t want to be the loser without a date who was still in love with you at your wedding.”

Jon sighed and pressed his forehead against hers. “On the one hand, I’m glad you pulled that little stunt. On the other hand, not so much.”

“He’ll be so happy, by the way, to learn that you’re here.”

Jon lifted his head. “Will he now?”

Sansa nodded. “I told him all about you, and he was convinced – _convinced_ – that we were meant to be.”

“He was right,” Jon whispered and kissed her again. “God, Sansa, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she murmured. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.”

“Same.” He played with the hem of her top. “San, I don’t want to be presumptuous, and I know we have a lot to sort out but I…. well, I kind of want to…you know…”

“Fuck me?” she prompted helpfully with a smile. 

“Make love to you,” he whispered. “I want to make love to you.”

“Sap.”

“Guilty as charged. Can I?”

She reached down and yanked her top off, leaving her top bare for him. His eyes widened and he gulped. “What do you think?” she asked. 

He reached up with shaking hands and caressed her breasts. Then he swore. “I didn’t bring protection.”

“I’m on birth control.” She took his hands and placed them firmly on her breasts. “Make love to me, Jon. It’s been a really long time.”

He groaned. 

“I just want you to know that I have my shit together now,” he said as he leaned down and nuzzled at her neck. “I have a career. I have money.” He lifted his head. “I’m currently without a place to live however. My name is on the lease of the apartment I share with Ygritte, but I’m not sure if she’ll end up staying there or not.”

“I don’t care if you live in a box,” Sansa murmured as she pushed his t-shirt up. He helped her take it off and she spread her hands over his torso, reacquainting herself with how rock hard his body was. God, she loved his abs. And his arms. And his everything. “I’d take you in,” she said and licked at a nipple. 

“Sansa,” he whined and tangled his hands in her hair, making her look at him. “I never wanted to make you choose,” he said. “I never told you I fell in love with you because I never wanted to make you choose between your career and me. It was important to me that you pursue your dreams.”

She blinked, and Jon realized she was trying to stave off tears when her eyes welled up. “I thought you just didn’t love me and I didn’t want to tell you how I felt and go off to New York with a broken heart. Instead, I …I went off to New York with a broken heart.”

“Sansa,” he breathed, and felt his own eyes well up. “Who wouldn’t love you? How could anyone stop themselves from that? You’re so brilliant and gorgeous and perfect—”

“I’m not perfect, Jon. I still just leave my shoes in the middle of the living room. Even after I’ve tripped over them just as you warned me I would.”

Jon laughed softly and rested his forehead on her shoulder. He sighed. “We wasted so much time, Sansa.” 

“Would you have come with me?” she asked softly, running her hands through his hair. 

He lifted his head. “I had nothing to offer you,” he said. “That’s why I never asked if I could go with you. I had no real job; I was directionless. I was afraid to hold you back and I was afraid that if I went with you, you would have to support me.”

“We didn’t waste time,” she murmured, running her fingertips along his brow line. “We just got our lives together.” She frowned. “Okay, but when I think about the torch I carried for you all this time—”

He nodded. “Same. It certainly feels like we wasted time.”

She nodded in agreement. “I know we still have things to talk about,” she said. “But do you think you could get inside me soon?”

Jon answered her by pushing her pajama bottoms down her hips. “Yes, I think I can,” he said huskily. 

It didn’t take long for either to get undressed, and instead of going to their bed, when they were naked, Sansa pushed Jon to the floor and straddled him. She rubbed her hot pussy against his rock hard cock, letting him feel her wetness and driving them both mad. 

Jon groaned, gripping his hips and he looked up at her. “I wanted to lick your pussy,” he told her. “I wanted to take my time and worship you…”

“But it’s been too long,” she said, and lifted her hips. She placed his cock at her entrance and slid down. “Right?”

He nodded. “Right. Fuck, Sansa, it’s like coming home.”

She smiled and began to move. She watched him as intently as he watched her. When he pushed himself up to a sitting position, he placed his hand on her breasts and then sucked one nipple in his mouth and then the other. His hands slid up her back and then down over her ass. 

“More,” she encouraged and started bouncing harder on top of him. “Please, Jon…”

With a growl, he flipped her onto her back and drove his hard cock deep inside her. He pushed her legs back and started to jackhammer himself inside her. “I love you,” he gasped. “We’ll make this work, yeah?”

She nodded. “Yes, yes, yes, yes – oh God, Jon, right there, don’t stop,” she hissed. 

He pistoned in and out of her rapidly and when she started to cum, Jon placed his hand over her mouth lest she scream and wake the house. She bit down on his hand that tipped Jon over the edge. He thrust hard three times and came inside her, grunting, sounding to himself distantly like a rabid dog. 

He released her legs and slipped out of her slowly. They shared a moan and Jon rolled over onto the floor on his back. “Did I hurt you?” he panted. 

“No,” she panted back. 

She rolled over and curled up against him. Jon gathered her close, kissing her forehead and grinning like a fool. “Is it wrong to be this happy on the same day I called off my wedding?”

“How did she take it?” Sansa asked softly. 

“Not well,” Jon said, and proceeded to tell her how it went. “I didn’t tell her that I was still in love with you.”

“Good. That would just hurt her more knowing another woman was involved.”

“How did I get myself into going as far as getting engaged?” he wondered aloud. 

“Loneliness? It happens to the best of us.”

He frowned and looked down at her. “Did you get yourself engaged?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. I went the other way. I didn’t get seriously involved with anyone but my career and vibrator.”

Jon rolled her onto her back and hovered over her. He grinned. “Vibrator, huh?”

The door swung open then and Sansa let out a soft shriek. Jon looked over his shoulder and there stood Loras in the doorway. 

Loras grinned. “So, I was right.”

“Loras!” Sansa hissed. Jon rolled off to his side and grabbed his t-shirt which was nearby and flung it over Sansa. 

Loras grinned. “I just thought you might want to keep it down since I can hear your voices. I would hate for this reunion to be interrupted.” He winked at Jon. “Nice ass.”

Jon frowned. “Thanks.”

Loras shut the door and Sansa giggled. “He’s never going to let me live this one down,” she said. “God, he’s going to be insufferable.”

“You know what I just realized?”

She looked over at Jon. “What’s that?”

“Why the fuck are we on the floor when there is a perfectly good bed yonder?”

“Did you just say yonder?”

He laughed softly. “I did.”

She climbed to her feet, tossing his shirt away and held out her hand. She blushed when Jon just stared up at her as though she was a Goddess come to life. 

“Do something for me?” he asked softly. 

“What’s that?”

“Get on the bed and spread your legs. I want to put my face in your cunt.”

Biting her lip, Sansa scrambled onto the bed eagerly to wait for him. She could not remember the last time she was this happy. Hopefully, this was a sign of good things to come. No pun intended.


End file.
